Tell You in the Morning
by Ashlerose
Summary: Thirteen months after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry still has grief to battle and he must singlehandedly dodge the wizarding public as well...but Ginny is always willing to keep anything at bay for him.
1. Chapter 1

"Harry?" The voice of Ginny Weasley quietly sounded in the dimly lit kitchen, containing both hesitance and worry. To her relief, a tall, lax form with unkempt hair straightened and half-rose from his chair at the sound of her voice.

Harry stood up, looking pale and exhausted even in the faint glow of the kitchen light. "Ginny." The one word he spoke expressed so many emotions, the most obvious being the usual tender warmth reserved for her alone; the second being a weary tone she was all-too familiar with. She slipped across the dark kitchen and into his arms, drawing her hands around his waist before resting her cheek to his chest. For an all-too brief moment, she got to hold him and gaze out the window with him, while lost in her thoughts.

She felt him relax, and she allowed herself to rest against him for a few minutes before raising her head to look at him. "The nightmares again?" she asked softly. His arms tightened around her just slightly, but it was a wordless confirmation, the presences of lingering agonies and half-buried grief looming just out of sight. She exhaled soundlessly, breathing in his scent. She slipped one hand into his untamable black hair, and he summoned a tired smile to his features. She held his gaze, and the smile slowly fell from his face, and he sighed, pointing the bleary green eyes to gaze at the ground.

"I see their faces, at Hogwarts," Harry said, his tone barely audible. "Dumbledore, Sirius, Mum and Dad, Cedric and Seamus, and all of them, they're just standing there. They're laughing. And smiling. And my mum's waving at me…and then I wake up." his voice shook, just for the briefest moment, before he lifted a hand to his eyes. "And then they're gone." Ginny's fingers pulled at his, and he took her hand automatically. She gripped it tightly, looking at him with fond eyes; then she pressed her lips to his palm. "Come on, Harry."

Ginny took him by the hand and led him back to the bedroom in his apartment. He climbed into the queen-sized bed and then rested more contently in her embrace. Ginny sighed, surveying him with liquid brown eyes. "I love you," Ginny said simply, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Sometimes I see them too. But it's not your fault that they're not here anymore, Harry. What about the rest of us that wouldn't be here if not for you? We've told you million times, and I'm telling you this again: stop with the torture and go to sleep." He raised his green eyes to her brown ones, and the emotion trapped her for a moment. Jumbled torrents of love clashed with guilt, anger churned with grief, and it was all she could do to try and lead him away from his broken dreams and bring him back to her. _It's so selfish,_ Ginny silently admitted to herself._ But sometimes I just want to lock the door and keep him in here just with me for a little longer. A lot longer, actually, now that I think about it._ She allowed herself a very sly grin, turning a delicate shade of red. Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking quite a bit. "What could you possibly be thinking about, Ginevra Molly Weasley, to actually make you blush?"

"Oh stop it, don't call me that," she said with annoyance, before giving him a good shove. "And you would know exactly what I'm thinking about, Harry James Potter." She informed him sourly. He grinned good-naturedly before catching her and pulling her back into his grasp.

"I suppose you're right about that, though I can't imagine Ron'd be very happy with me if he knew I was here again…_'What? She's my sister! What the bloody hell do you mean, you stayed over at her place!'_" He grimaced while Ginny rolled about laughing. "It's bad enough he found you in my shower last week...He really would kill me, you know that?" Harry shook his head, wincing at the thought of the look on his best mate's face after discovering Harry at Ginny's place.

Ginny seemed to understand what he was thinking at once, and she grabbed him around the shoulders to make Harry face her. "Hey, it's no business of Ron's what I do or who I sleep with, or anyone else's for that matter," she said, fixing him with an absolutely fierce look. He looked her right back at her, his green eyes alight with laughter and content. Inwardly, Ginny groaned. _That's not fair, I'm no match for those eyes, Harry._ "You don't play fair, Potter," she told him before wrapping her arms around him.

"What are you..." Harry started indignantly, but then Ginny tilted her head to meet his lips, and he was, as usual, drawn in by her everything; her scent, the warmth of her slight form in his arms.

She finally released him to watch him settle back against the bed before slipping under his arm. "Will you please sleep now? I swear, you're worse than Hermione with all your fretting."

"What's she fretting about, now?" Harry asked, already half-asleep. The reassuring arm across his chest and the feel of his pillow was enough to drift to sleep, and now he struggling to form coherent words.

Ginny seemed to sense this, and she lowered her head of red hair to the pillow, smiling. "Nothing she can't tell you in the morning. Night, Harry."

His words were soft but she heard him sigh contently. "Night, Gin."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: J. K. Rowling has the rights to Harry Potter and other characters mentioned in this story. However, the plot for this story is mine, so be nice, and don't steal, please. __Alright! Second chapter's up and running, and you can expect update in the next couple of days. Hopefully. Thanks to any readers!_

The shower was running and Ginny's voice could be heard faintly singing to herself when Harry finally opened his eyes the next morning. He groaned softly, closing his eyes again. Despite the fact that Ginny had pulled him back to bed last night, he had slept with uneasy dreams and he had woken up several times…he had woken up very, very reluctantly. Very slowly, Harry opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling of Ginny's bedroom. He looked down at the covers he was laying in, the pale yellow sheets. Studying the familiar photographs round the walls and the Quidditch gloves and robes thrown hastily across her trunk, he noted that although she was quite a bit neater than he was, he still felt quite at home at her flat. Every bit of the place was Ginny, right down to the usual flowery scent that her bedroom smelled of faintly. Wonderingly, he had asked what it was once, and she had laughed and told him violets. Harry felt his face break into a smile. Violets.

He could hear the stream of water turn off, and then it was silent except for her quiet footsteps. Harry sighed, pushing his messy black hair back before he rolled over and pushed his glasses onto his face. He had just raised his head towards the bathroom when Ginny stepped out. She was wrapped in a robe, and her brilliant red locks were splayed haphazardly across her shoulders, damp but neatly brushed. She grinned as she followed his gaze. "Morning," she said, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

Harry smiled in spite of himself. She grabbed some clothes off a chair, and called over her shoulder, "There's coffee in the kitchen, and some breakfast. I have to go off to work in a bit, but I'm stopping over at the Burrow first. You want to come?"

Harry stretched and stood up in his boxers lazily, then headed for the bathroom. "Yeah, but I think I'll shower first. Meet you there?" he asked, and she nodded, now fully dressed. He gave her a peck on the top of the head, and then she offered him a smile and turned on her heel. The next second, she was gone. Harry yawned, then gathered up his shirt, jeans, and trainers and went into the bathroom.

When Harry apparated into the Burrow half an hour later, Ron, Bill, Fleur, and Molly were in the kitchen and Molly was shouting up the stairs.

"Arthur Weasley! If you don't stop fussing with those barttery and screwdrives thing right this moment, I will march up there and hex you down to this kitchen myself!" Her tone contained a definite note of warning, and Molly was frowning in exasperation as she listened expectantly.

There were a number of scuffles from the upstairs, and then a harried voice called out, "Coming, Molly, coming!"

Sighing, Molly turned back to her kitchen, and caught sight of Harry. She beamed at him as usual. "Good morning, Harry, my you look tired," she clucked in a voice of concern. "What can I fix you for breakfast, dear?" she asked, quite pleasantly for someone who had been threatening her husband short moments before.

"I'll just grab some toast, Mrs. Weasley," he said, grinning as he ducked to grab a plate.

"Are you sure, because I can make something in a hurry. Forgive me, but you seem to be nothing but skin and bones…" Molly fussed.

"Honestly Mum, let him be; it's no wonder he's skin and bones," Ginny rolled her eyes, emerging from the stairs. Harry grinned as Molly indignantly turned away, pursing her lips as she looked away from her daughter. Ginny caught Harry's eyes and smiled good-naturedly. There was loud crack, and then everyone turned to greet Hermione. She offered a half-hearted smile to the kitchen before wearily dropping to a chair. Even now, at nine months and nearly a week pregnant, Hermione still carried an alarming amount of books crammed into her bag, but today she dropped it carelessly to the floor with a thud.

"Morning, love," she said wanly, kissing Ron quickly before helping herself to some hot cereal. Harry studied her pale, drawn face and the hand she awkwardly pressed to her back, and with a frown, Harry turned to nudge Ron, but found his mate had already caught Hermione's odd behavior. Ron was watching Hermione with a good deal of concern and apparent anxiety. Harry watched his friend's eyes survey Hermione's listless demeanor, and then drop to gaze at the mound of his wife's stomach. Hermione's eyes were lowered to the table and she absently turned her spoon around in her bowl, lost in thought.

"Er, Hermione?" Ron asked quietly as Molly bustled around, adjusting spoons stirring batter in bowls and fruits chopping themselves. A glance around the kitchen told Harry that no one else seemed to have noticed Hermione's diminished state. Ginny was arguing with Fleur over the table while Fleur gesticulated wildly with her hands and Bill trying to contain his laughter, while Ron only had eyes for his wife. "Hermione," Ron asked again, more firmly. "What's the matter?"

Caught unawares, Hermione looked up at her husband distractedly, an obviously forced smile coming to her face. "Oh, sorry, Ron," she said sheepishly. She raised a hand to her head. "I'm a bit tired…"

"Are you sick?" Harry asked with a touch of concern.

Hermione's smile dropped from her face like a rock. "No, not at all. It's just..." Her eyes fell, her face was distraught. "Why haven't I had this baby yet?!" she burst out. Hermione's eyes were very bright, and looking almost terrified, she lowered her voice worriedly. "What if there's something wrong? What if there's something the matter with the baby?" Her lip trembled when she spoke, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach helplessly. Ron looked at her in alarm, then nervously at her stomach, peering out noticeably from her robes.

"Hermione, I'm sure the baby will come soon…" Ron began in an attempt at soothing her, reaching to place a gentle hand on her shoulders. At his touch, Hermione stood up, her abundant brown hair swinging against her back wildly.

"Well, I'm not nearly as sure, Ron. I'm going back to the house," Hermione said miserably, looking on the verge of tears. She turned and disapparated with another crack. Ron looked stunned, then he stood up, hauling Hermione's bag over his shoulder. He glanced warily at the rest in the kitchen.

"She's nearly a week overdue, and she's a bit," Ron paused, looking careful to put it. "Stressed." He seemed to think this a good enough answer, as he then turned on his heel and disapparated a few steps behind his wife.

Ginny, Molly, and Bill exchanged looks over the table, while Harry stared at the place where Ron had disappeared with a frown. "I am sure there eez nothing to be vorried about," Fleur said unconvincingly, lacing her pale, elegant fingers together. She cleared her throat but, she too, looked to where Ron and Hermione had disappeared.

In the year that Ron and Hermione had been married, he had not remembered a time much happier than when Hermione had announced (rather pink-faced at the time) their pregnancy; only two months after their marriage. Only three months after the fight with Voldemort, Harry reminded himself. After the fall of 'You-know-who', their first child was more than a cause for celebration; it was something quite closer to a miracle. But when Hermione went past her due date, the Weasley's and quite a few members of the Order of the Phoenix waited nervously and every day, Hermione seemed every bit closer to going into hysterics…

"Harry?" Ginny had come to stand next to him, looking anxious. "You don't think…you don't think there's something wrong-?"

"No," Harry said firmly, but deep in his stomach, a lurch of fear escaped. The baby's fine, he told himself off resolutely. "Hermione and Ron had dozens of check ups before. All the Healers have told them everything was fine." Ginny nodded, but she still looked anxiously at Molly's clock, where Ron and Hermione's hands were pointing to 'home'. Sighing with resignation, Harry brushed stray bits of black hair from his face and reached for Ginny's hand quietly. She intertwined her fingers with his wordlessly, but returned to her toast with a sigh. "Now, now," Molly finally addressed her kitchen rather briskly. "That boy will be here within the next day, I'm sure."

Bill raised his eyebrows. "Boy? Mum, Ron and Hermione didn't find out the baby's sex, aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" he asked pointedly.

"Nonsense, all you boys were late; while Ginny was the only one born early." She fixed him with sharp eyes. "I'm afraid your ten sickles will go to Charlie, Bill, dear." Bill snorted into his milk, hastily swallowing while Fleur patted him on the back with outrage.

"Really, I am sure ze uncles would know better zan ze grandmuzzer, zat is how my family eez…" And at this, the whole kitchen burst into laughter, Molly included, while Fleur sat stiffly at the table, frowning in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Disclaimer in previous chapters. The third chapter is finally up, so yay! I will try to get another chapter up as soon as I can okay? Let me know what you guys thought of this bit. Thanks for reading!_

Ron Weasley opened his eyes, started, and sat upright in the unseeing darkness. He groped for his bedside clock that so helpfully told the time in Ireland, France, Japan, and America as well as his time in Britain. Tonight, he cursed the bloody thing and grabbed it to find the right one. It read 2:41. He instinctively reached for Hermione, lying next to him in the bed. His outstretched fingers came up with the empty sheets and an unoccupied mattress space beside him.

Fear instantly burst into his stomach, and Ron scrambled out of bed, feeling the blood leave his face even in the dark. A shuffling noise came from the side of the bed, followed by a soft moan. "Hermione?" Ron grabbed for his wand on the bedside table, and pointed it at the floor. _"Lumos!"_

Hermione was curled on the floor, her arms tightly circling her belly. She was biting her lip, a picture of a delicate and acute state of pain. The ground was visibly wet next to her, but Hermione hadn't looked at Ron yet, still groaning softly. In about three seconds, Ron felt his heart cease it's beating, and he was on the floor beside her. His arm slid around her shoulders easily, and she had grabbed his proffered hand and was crushing it tightly in her own. In a few moments, she sighed heavily, and her hand relented on the painful grasp.

"Ron." Hermione managed.

"I'm here," Ron reassured her, stroking her messy locks.

"I think that was a contraction, and it's time," Hermione sighed unhappily, letting her head fall onto Ron's shoulder.

"Bloody hell," he murmured, taking her hand again; and for once, Hermione seemed to agree.

In his flat a few miles away, Harry jolted out of his half-conscious state with sleepy bewilderment, immediately aware of the hand on his forearm. "Harry!" Ginny said anxiously, clicking on the light. She was fully dressed, but her hair was tangled and mussed in a thrown back state. "We've got to get to Ron and Hermione's, hurry!"

"What? Why?" he asked stupidly, rubbing his eyes in a half-dazed stupor. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, pushing them on his face clumsily. Ginny grabbed his arm in an attempt to get his attention.

"Harry, Hermione's having the baby," Ginny cried. Harry blinked and stared up at her, his mouth falling open. Ginny tugged him out of bed, and he quickly pulled on trousers and shoes, wildly stumbling around in the dark. He grabbed his wand from where he had stuffed it under the mattress, and then he glanced at Ginny. She nodded distractedly, and there was a crack and she was gone. Harry followed suit, summoning the presence of mind to apparate appropriately to the right place, and then he was in Ron's living room. He could already see Arthur, Fred, Bill, George, and Lupin gathered tersely around the couch and hastily conjured chairs. Ginny strode up to them, looking excited and nervous. "How's she doing?" she stood, glancing up the stairs. Sure enough, groans and cries could be heard faintly.

"They're fine," Mr. Weasley said, but his eyes went to the stairs and cries of pain with uncertainty.

"Doesn't sound bloody well fine," George muttered grimly. A figure appeared hurrying down the stairs.

"They're fine," Molly said quickly at the looks on their faces. "She's fine," she assured Harry and Ginny. Harry nodded, accepting a butterbeer from George. He knew that childbirth was no small task, and a famous witch was once quoted as saying that women bore the greatest pain for wizarding kind while men messed around on broomsticks; but Hermione's screams made it increasingly hard to sit still and wait like a patient child.

At one point in one of Hermione's screams, they could make out Ron's name, and Molly stood, her hands rising to rest at her head anxiously. "There's a Healer up there, she'll let us know if there's something wrong," but even as Molly was saying this, Hermione screamed loudly enough for Harry, Fred, and Lupin to rise from their chairs. A half-strangled yell from Ron seemed to float down the stairs, and then the crying of someone else entirely broke out.

All hell broke loose in the sitting room; and the next thing Harry knew was Fred has clasped him round the neck, and he was laughing as George grabbed them both in a strangling hug, pulling Ginny along wildly. Molly kissed her husband, weeping a little, while Lupin congratulated them both, clapping Fred on the back; grinning like no one had seen for months. Harry was released by George only to grab Ginny in his arms and lift her from the ground, both of them laughing and spinning while the baby cried upstairs still louder. A series of haphazard thudding noises caught their attention, and then Ron emerged stumbling from the stairs, grinning ear to ear but visibly crying and sputtering like an incoherent idiot. "She had a boy," he managed to say, rubbing at his eyes madly. "We have a boy!" Ron choked out, trying in vain to wipe his tears away. He promptly disappeared into a very loud and joyous hug that everyone was pulled along into. Ron pulled away a few moments later, no longer babbling but still broadly smiling. "I've got to see Hermione," he got out before dashing back up the stairs. George happily summoned another full round of butter beers from the kitchen and then hugged his younger sister before they began to do an ungainly sort of crazy dance.

"A grandson, just like I told you," Molly said, smiling and wiping at her eyes. "And you all owe Charlie the lot, you four," she said with sudden sternness to Arthur, Bill, Fred, and George. They had the grace to like abashed, for a few moments, anyways. Harry took a moment to take in everything, his two best friends upstairs, with their son; while their family and friends celebrated in their living room like raving lunatics. He grinned, and found Ginny joining him at the hip.

"Hi," he said, still grinning madly, slipping his arm around her waist. The ring on her finger reflected a sparkling light on the ceiling, and Harry privately smiled, because in only two months he'd be married, just like his prat of a best mate who was crying upstairs. She sighed with content, fondly listening to the muffled baby cries floating down the stairs. Then all of a sudden, she straightened and looked at him; her face at first fierce, a defiant look on her face; but her eyes soon softened into a troubled indignation. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then lifted her face with concern. "Gin, what's…?"

She surprised him again by taking him in the middle of celebrations and burying her face in his chest with every air of being upset. He was taken aback by how tightly she held him, until he finally caught her speaking softly. "Harry…"

She finally met his gaze with troubled eyes. "Will you still love me enough to do this? Are you sure...you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Will we have a baby too?" The hopeful and concerned look in her eyes left Harry quite speechless. _She's worried...about _me_ not wanting this, not wanting her?_ And then Ginny pulled away hard, but not before he saw the embarrassment and mortification scrawled plainly across her face. "Sorry…" she muttered.

"You don't know..." Harry got out quietly before he swept her up in his arms once more. His face felt warm, but he only had eyes for Ginny, whose sudden worry had caught him unawares but also started a tug of heart-felt emotion somewhere deep in his chest. "You really don't know how much I need you...how much I want to get married, and have…" And now Harry knew his face was definitely red, but it was true what he had to tell her, so he went on softly, "And have our baby…" Ginny's eyes were wide with surprise, but she clutched at him suddenly and kissed him, quickly but tenderly.

"I just want you, Harry. That's all I ever wanted." And she smiled as he let her down to the floor, right as Harry noticed the now-obvious sniggers from her brothers and openly awkward stares from her parents, not to mention Lupin. He turned away quickly, turning a shade of red the complemented Ginny's.

"I wonder what they'll name him," Ginny said hastily, but she glanced towards the ceiling curiously. Harry looked up too. For a few moments there was silence. Then the baby started wailing again upstairs.

"We'll see," Fred said wryly.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: (Disclaimer in previous chapter somewhere...) Finally, I have Chapter Four up! Sorry for the huge delay...but chapter five should be on sometime next week. Again, sorry for the gap, I'll do my best to get the chapters up on time. Thank you to any readers, and, as usual, let me know what you think and leave a review. Thanks to readers! Thank you._

Eating breakfast at the Burrow later on seemed much more of a reception for the baby than anything else. After Molly and Arthur had briefly been introduced to their grandson, she had joyfully reported what he looked like to the family and anyone who would listen. People were repeatedly Apparating into the kitchen to offer congratulations, while Molly performed some of the best cooking spell work Harry had ever seen. "Oh yes, he's a handsome little boy, definitely a Weasley boy. Seven pounds, perfectly healthy…" Molly was overseeing several sausages frying in a pan and telling Nymphadora Tonks all about him. Absently, she flicked her wand and the sausages flew onto a plate as she talked happily. Tonks raised her glass of pumpkin juice, grinning.

"Well, cheers then, Molly. Any idea what they'll name him?" Tonks asked before draining her juice and standing to leave. She inattentively pulled a curled purple lock out of her face before pulling on her traveling cloak, fastening buttons with a preoccupied look on her face. Tonks would be busy, Harry reminded himself. Remus Lupin had finally-_finally­_-proposed half a year ago, only four weeks after Ginny and Harry's engagement was announced, and their wedding was coming up in three months in August.

Fred smirked at his mother. "Ickle Ronnikin Jr., perhaps?" he asked, pretending mock consideration. Tonks grinned at them both before heading out the front door, whistling cheerfully. George joined in next, unable to keep a straight face.

"Or the fine name of George, after the successful and caring uncle?"

"Perfect role model," said Fred. "Because of course we want a nephew to inherit George's dashing good lucks and clever charm…" He considered George with a grin, before smoothing his own hair smugly. "Though, I am by far the more handsome twin."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I think Hermione had a name in mind," he said, a memory stirring. He frowned, remembering something she had said at her father's funeral a few months ago.

Ginny laughed. "Well, it doesn't matter what you lot think, it's Ron and Hermione's baby," she pointed out. To add to their impatience, none of them (besides Molly and Arthur) had actually seen Ron and Hermione's child, and Harry found himself more than a little impatient to meet the son of his two closest friends.

"Fair point," Fred replied to Ginny, sitting down. "But even I didn't take as long to name my offspring as Ron and Hermione are taking…" Fred had married Angelina Johnson before the Second War had ended. Angelina and Fred had proudly welcomed their daughter, Isabelle 'Izzy' Olivia Weasley, who was now nine months old. Izzy was a miniature of Angelina, with graceful and friendly features, but for her inherited brown eyes and penchant for mischief.

"Well, at least they were married before their boy was on the way," Molly suddenly growled from the stove.

Fred groaned. "Oh, please, Mum, stop griping; Angelina and I would have gotten married anyways, wouldn't we? It's not like we had Izzy straight out of Hogwarts…"

Molly sniffed and returned to her cooking, and Fred added in an undertone, "Ron and Hermione had a whole _two months_ over us, yes, huge difference you see," he said, rolling his eyes.

A sudden crack made all of them jump out of their chairs, but. "Hello," Ron said, grinning in a sort of embarrassed but proud way. His eyes were circled and weary, but he seemed exuberant. Molly exclaimed happily and hugged her youngest son, but Ginny and the rest of the table seemed to be sitting in apprehensive excitement.

"Well?" George asked impatiently.

"Well what?" Ron asked suspiciously, eyeing George and Fred as though at any moment they might jump him.

"What did you name him?" Ginny asked excitedly, just as the fire roared green flames from the fireplace in the corner.

"David Allen Weasley," Hermione said affectionately as she stepped carefully out of the fire, holding a swaddled bundle close to her chest. She looked tired and in much need of a rest, but like Ron; yet there was an air of undeniable joy to her. Ron immediately went to her side, and helped into a seat at the table, but instantaneously the whole kitchen was gathered round Hermione.

It was in this moment that Harry could finally see why his mother could die for him; why Hermione had been so hysterical over her overdue pregnancy, and why Ginny had been so overcome with worry just hours ago. David Weasley blinked up at them all calmly; wisps of bright red hair covered his scalp and his tiny balled fists shook up at them ever so slightly. His tiny, serious face seemed quite unperturbed despite the delighted cries and laughter from the people crowding over him. The gentle, dark blue eyed gaze turned to look Harry in the face; and Harry was suddenly reminded incredibly of Albus Dumbledore. "He's something, isn't he?" his best mate's voice sounded behind him.

Harry turned to face Ron, who was gazing at Hermione and his son, getting a faraway, tender expression. Harry grinned. "He's brilliant, mate," he said quietly, clapping Ron lightly on the back.

"He is brilliant, isn't he," Hermione softly. "He's got Ron's hair alright; and he'll probably get freckles later on, but he kind of has my face, don't you think? My nose and mouth…" she smiled lovingly down at her son before beaming at Harry.

"Well, that's a shame he didn't inherit our good looks," George said, pretending disappointment, before grinning at Harry. "It's lucky he doesn't look too much like Ron though, blessed little fellow." He ducked a swat from his youngest brother good-naturedly.

"Hello, David, I'm your Dad's sister. That'd make me your Aunt Ginny," Ginny said, laughing. "That is an odd idea…your Auntie, eh?" Her eyes shone with laughter and excitement. She traced his little hand with a smile as bright as the sun. "He's clever like you, Hermione." Ginny said softly, offering her fingertips to the baby, who caught them tightly.

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked, though she blushed slightly. Ginny smiled.

"It's in his eyes, the way he looks at you. He's learning," Ginny winked, but maintained the contact with her nephew. George stepped in to enthusiastically greet his brother's child, while Fred conjured a colorful ring toy for the baby.

Hermione raised her eyes rather suddenly, looking first at Ron, who nodded. She then looked hesitantly at Harry. "And, Harry, well, Ron and I were wondering whether…" she said somewhat shyly, then went on hastily, "We wondered whether you'd be his godfather."

Ron and Hermione looked at him anxiously, while the rest of the Weasleys' and Tonks looked on. For a few seconds Harry stared dimly at them, echoing stupidly, "For real?" Molly laughed, but Ron was nodding with a sheepish grin, and Hermione was staring at him hopefully. His throat was rapidly constricting and he was forced to look down at the floor for a few moments. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but they wanted him to be David's godfather…what Sirius had been to him, Harry. When he looked back up, Hermione looked pink but didn't turn away, and Ron's ears were red, but they both met his gaze steadily.

"Yeah." He said, looking down at David before grinning at Ron and Hermione happily. "Yes, I want to be his godfather."

Hermione flushed but looked delighted, and Ron seized Harry round the neck and cuffed him roughly. "I thought you were going to say no for a minute there," Ron said, grinning widely.

Harry returned the grin, then Hermione carefully offered little David out to him, smiling. Harry hesitated, looking at Hermione uncertainly. She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, must I show you two everything?" She laughed as he flushed, then turned a more gentle tone on him. "It's alright Harry, just support his head with your arm and take his body in your other, like this…" Hermione nestled David into Harry's arms, smiling. Marveling at both the baby's surprising heaviness and warmth, Harry studied the baby silently. He bore the distinct red hair as common to a Weasley, but David did undoubtedly resemble Hermione, with her mouth and shape of face. And yet his eyes were so like those he had seen so many times-the twinkling, serene gaze of blue so similar to Hogwarts' former headmaster.

"Dad and Mum said he looked like someone they hadn't seen in a while," Ron was saying, frowning. "His eyes, Dad said."

Instantly, Harry sought Molly's eyes. She was beaming down at her grandson, and then she looked at Harry. She nodded; her eyes understanding, her face knowing.

"He looks like Dumbledore, your father said," Molly said, looking at Ron and Hermione. Ron looked taken aback, but Hermione didn't. She just smiled as Harry handed David back to her, raising a finger to David's soft, chubby cheek.

"Dumbledore's were different blue, though," she said quietly. She placed a kiss on David's head softly. "But he does have the same kind of calm look," Hermione spoke thoughtfully. Ron shuffled closer to his child and slipped a hand on Hermione's back, looking protectively down at both of them. The baby's eyes blinked and he gave a little squirm as he looked unfalteringly at the circle of people around him. Hermione's grip remained steady on him as she considered him. "But maybe all babies have that peaceful look..." Hermione concluded in a whisper. David yawned in her arms, perfectly at ease as he looked heavy-lidded up at his mother. Within a few moments of silence throughout the Burrow, he was asleep and breathing evenly. Hermione and Ron breathed sighs of relief.

"Now that he's asleep, we're off for some sleep as well." Ron explained hastily as he helped Hermione stand. "We'll see you in a bit, I suppose, unless this one sleeps for a while." He grinned, gesturing at his son.

"Well, bye then," Hermione said with an unsuccessfully stifled yawn, already looking sluggish just heading for the fire. She held David tightly to her, brandishing a handful of powder into the fire as the flames licked green. She stepped in, calling, "Number sixteen twenty-eight, Mediuan Place!" and she spun away, eyes tightly closed (Hermione had never liked travel by Floo). Ron grinned faintly to the kitchen and turned on his heel with a crack.

Fred sat back into his chair, smiling slightly. "David Allen Weasley. Has a nice sound to it," he yawned. George looked at Harry steadily for a moment before chuckling.

"Thought they'd name him after you, Harry, but you're his godfather…bonded for life, you get to be the proud recipient of so many golden moments…" George grinned, looking at Fred.

"First time you change his nappies and all that…" Fred laughed at Harry's expression.

Harry groaned, but he was feeling better than he had in weeks when he stood up. "I'm going home," he told them, "Catching up on some sleep sounds pretty good…" Across the table he caught Ginny's eye and felt his face start to get hot. "See you later," he muttered and Disapparated before Fred or George figured out where Ginny would be Apparating to.

Ginny appeared in his apartment in only a few moments, grinning as he pulled her to him. "So. Godfather."

He laughed. "Yeah. Sounds crazy, I know…" He thought again of the red haired boy who had looked up at him…Ron and Hermione's son…his soon-to-be godchild.

Ginny shook her head at his comment, red hair shaking back over her shoulders. "No, it seems…right. For you and them, I mean."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "Your dad was right, you know. His eyes are like Dumbledore's." Ginny looked up in the dark, but he could only the dark outline of her face.

"I know," she said simply.

His fingers grazed her back gently, and then caught slightly in her hair when they kissed. When they broke apart, Ginny clasped her hands at the back of his neck. For once, he wasn't just the one who defeated Voldemort or the chosen one. He was in love with Ginny Weasley, and he was the godfather of his best friends' son. Thinking of what Fred had said about changing nappies, he couldn't suppress a grin.

"What?" Ginny questioned.

"I love you," Harry said, and with a smile, he kissed her again.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: (Disclaimer in previous chapters. Don't sue me, please.) Sorry for the delays, was offline for quite a while...But here we are, so as always, any feedback is appreciated. Thank you!_

Curled comfortably under the bed sheets, Ginny had decided she liked Harry's bed much better than her own. It was true that his apartment was rather cold early in the spring nights, and there was something to be said about the books and clothes sometimes strewn pell-mell around the place; but his bed was a magic all its own. There was a sort of warmth here, a soft but not uncomfortable bed, and the covers were a kind you could wrap about yourself and another quite easily. That was more or less how she lay next to Harry, only slightly aware that he was fiddling with her hair again. Next to her, he shifted, obviously awake, and tucked an arm over her. She caught his wrist with her eyes closed, loosely locking fingers with him.

"Ginny…are you awake?"

"Mmm." She wasn't really up, not yet, as Harry well knew, but she rolled over rest somewhere on his stomach. Still unwilling to open her eyes, she frowned to feel that he was shaking slightly, but when she heard him chuckling, she attempted to roll away from him. Harry may have found her sleepiness to be entertaining, but Ginny was starting to feel rather annoyed with him this early in the morning. "Get away," she muttered when he pulled her back towards him, "Get off, Harry…seriously, stop," and she opened her eyes, pushing away his temptingly warm, but unrelenting hands. To her chagrin, Harry drew her to him quite easily, and so she gave in with a sigh to land on his chest.

Harry sounded somewhat amused when he spoke next. "Er…when were you planning on getting up?"

Ginny scowled at him, trying to look angry in spite of the merriment twinkling behind the glasses of those green eyes. "Not soon," she said pointedly. He grinned somewhat apologetically before holding her closer, looking content. Ginny tucked herself under the blankets again, propping her arm on the pillow to face Harry.

"Sleep well?" She asked, ignoring the hand wandering across her shoulder blades. Harry didn't reply, his hand creeping towards her stomach. Ginny lost her patience and grabbed his arm, turning to glare at him, but Harry gave a shout of laughter as she tickled him instead.

"Hey-! Ginny, stop!" He yelped indignantly, thrashing around on the sheets. She laughed mercilessly.

"What's wrong, Harry? You could take down Voldemort but not me? You're losing your touch, Potter!" Laughing, she reached over to prod him in the stomach, but he grabbed her instead and caught her gently in a kiss. Ginny surrendered to his attack quite easily and lost track of whose hands were whose in the next few minutes. When he broke away from her suddenly and swore, Ginny let him go and looked at him, aghast.

"I'm supposed to meet Lupin for lunch," he explained distractedly, pushing a handful of jet black hair from his face as he rose from the bed. "I didn't think we'd be still in bed…" Ginny raised a hand to her face, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall.

She cursed under her breath. "I've got practice in forty minutes," she said, remembering her conversation with her captain just yesterday. Only four months ago, Ginny had taken on by Puddlemere United to play as chaser. Somehow, quidditch had changed along the way from a game she loved to a job she loved, and she had no complaints. Ginny loved every moment up on her broomstick; although it was true she would always feel more at home in gold and red robes, rather than the navy blue robes she now flew in. However, practicing five days a week was a more unwelcome adjustment, something that interfered regularly with her personal life.

"Oh." Harry stood, looking unhappily at her, then at the clock again. "We'd better go," he said, looking like he'd much rather stay where he was, but he had to meet Lupin and she had no choice. If she wanted to continue playing for Puddlemere United, she'd have to train. She knew Harry was always happy with a chance to see Lupin...and she couldn't supress a wry grin that the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be meeting with Harry, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Ginny shot him a quick look. He was still messing about his hair with one hand, while searching for his shirt. She shook her head at him, the mess that he was, and she stepped to him while he was leaning down, still looking for the shirt. She laid a kiss on the top of his head, and he straightened and caught her in a quick embrace and kissed her soundly. She smiled when he pulled away gently, grinning. "See you in a bit," she said and gripped his arm for a moment…before giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. He jumped, laughing, but she was still chuckling even as she Apparated to her flat.

"Ginny!"

She whirled around. Ron was standing in her living room, looking worried. "Ron? What on earth are you doing here?" she demanded, suddenly very aware of her disheveled appearance.

"Were you at Harry's?" Ron asked not very nicely. Ginny crossed her arms and glared at him. Ginny pulled her wand out of her pocket threateningly.

"Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. And don't give me that look, Ron, or I'll jinx you or worse." she added warningly to him. "Now what were _you_ doing here?"

Her brother still looked angry, but now his ears began to turn red. He began to stare resolutely past Ginny's shoulder. "Well..."

"Out with it," Ginny snapped. Ron refused to look at her

David...We want you to be his godmother." And so Ginny stared, open-mouthed at her brother. After a long silence, Ron looked at his younger sister somewhat defiantly. "Well?" he asked, sounding braced.

Ginny quickly shut her mouth, feeling ashamed already for her outburst. "Of course I will, Ron." She looked at him, and he met her eyes evenly. For a moment they simply stared at each other, and then Ron broke into a wry grin. "Only you could threaten to hex me into oblivion before I ask you to be Godmother to our child," he chuckled. Ginny put her wand away guiltily.

"I am sorry, Ron," she said genuinely, and gave him a quick hug.

"I'd better go tell Hermione you've said yes, then," he said, and grabbed a handful of sooty powder into her fireplace and then spun away. Ginny continued to look at the fireplace for a few moments before splitting into a grin. "Godmother," she said happily, shaking her head, and then she made a mad dash for the navy blue Quidditch robes. It was time for practice.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Well, after toiling about my house quite lazily, I've actually managed to get chapter six up, if a little late. Yes, I'm on my break (but no snow yet) and so will hopefully be writing at least the next chapter (I must say, I'm anxious to work on this upcoming chapter) and have it up by next week. So lazy, I know. As always, I hope you all like it and please let me know what you think of it. Thanks for reading!_

"Next term you begin teaching, right?" Remus Lupin asked Harry with a smile. Harry offered a small grin to Lupin, leaning back in his chair and taking a swig of butter beer. Sitting in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry considered the man sitting before him. The Second War had left its scars subtly, but the struggles and losses of the past years had left barely discernable marks on Lupin as well. There were unspoken lines one his face, one Harry had long since recognized as souvenirs of losing Sirius, and at some particularly weary and tired moments, the quietly mourned, somber shadows in Remus's eyes would be revealed. There seemed no doubt that the loss of three lifelong friends and the betrayal of one would have left long-suffered grief on Lupin, but as of the last year and a half, a change had taken hold as well.

The diminished, often-ill look that had constantly occupied his exterior had seemed to heal over. Though he still maintained transformation into a werewolf every month, he was looking much healthier as of late, and he was hardly as pale and thin as he had once been. In the last months, in fact, new legislation had been brought in and passed by the Ministry, (Harry supposed Rufus Scrimgeour had to be good for something) that had overruled classification of werewolves as dark, highly dangerous creatures to afflicted wizards and witches with monthly handicaps. This basically translated to Lupin finally able to buy a place of his own and find a job, and as Remus put it wryly, "I've finally got a set of robes without patches down the front."

But perhaps, Harry surmised, the most welcome changes were brought on by Tonks, who had restored a younger, more cheerful side of Remus that had scarcely been seen in the past handful of years. His renewed laughter and wry smiles were often contagious now. Indeed, his proposal to Tonks ("Told you I'd marry you," Tonks had said with a wink) and their engagement was proof enough that he had finally come round, to everyone, and Tonks. And so, Harry faced Remus Lupin with a slowly spreading grin, his reply accompanied by a chuckle.

"I start the position next term, yeah," Harry said, now grinning more ruefully at the thought of it. He leaned back in his seat, grinning rather widely now. "And Professor McGonagall's offered Head of Gryffindor too, seeing as she hadn't found a teacher who could handle the lot. She says they're as clever as you, Dad, and Sirius were and twice as bad as Fred and George, so yes," Harry said, seeing Remus's appreciative smile, "It seems I'm in for an interesting year."

Remus shook his head, chuckling. "And, you'll have to lodge at Hogwarts during the year...how did Ginny take to that news?" Harry grimaced.

"After the initial news, she…" he paused, recalling the painful moment Ginny had looked at him in shock and dismay, and then furiously performed a full body-bind curse on him and stormed from the kitchen, looking between the verge of tears and extreme violence. The time he had spent staring in frustration at the ceiling of his apartment had been both miserable and infuriating, until Ron had finally come along some hours later. Harry grimaced at the mere memory. "Well…honestly? She hexed me and I was on my apartment floor for two hours. Not that it wasn't my fault, but…" Remus looked at him, astonished, and then he was unable to suppress a laugh.

"I see," he managed, but met Harry's gaze sympathetically. "I can see Ginny's side of the matter, though, with getting married and then you off teaching."

The familiar worry tugged at the bottom of Harry's stomach. "We'll work it out," he said firmly, but he glanced at his watch. "Speaking of Ginny, Remus, her Quidditch practice ends at half past two, and I can still catch the last half an hour if I hurry…"

Remus stood, smiling as he fished some sickles out of his pocket and placed them on the table. "No, go ahead, as it is Tonks will have my head unless I get back to help…" At Harry's questioning look, he added, "Arrangements for the wedding. Thanks for meeting me, Harry; we should have lunch again another time." Grinning, Harry shook Remus's hand, doled out some coins for the bill, and then ducked out of the building into the streets of Diagon Alley.

Flashes of light greeted him, and he automatically held up his arm to his glasses. An unpleasant sight of reporters and photograghers clutching cameras and quills flocked around him, assaulting him with shouted questions and harried cries.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter! I'm with the _Daily Prophet_, and could you tell us how your wedding is coming along?"

"Harry! Can you tell our readers how you feel about getting married to your best friend's sister? How does the best friend feel about this?"

"Mr. Potter! Where is your wedding going to take place?"

Still shielding his eyes, he swiftly pulled out his wand and, moments later, was being crammed through the air as he Disapparated, but it was worth it when he arrived just outside the Quidditch pitch that Puddlemere United played at. He sighed with relief at the sight of the small stadium, straightening and fixing his cloak. Ruddy reporters, he thought angrily. Will we ever get time to ourselves? He wondered with frustration as he made his way into the stadium.

But it appeared they would not get any time alone, for a small crowd of smartly dressed wizards and witches clutching quills and parchment were waiting, apparently, for the team to exit the stadium and ask questions about their upcoming match. Grimly, he saw the looks of delight spread rapidly across some of their faces as they aimed cameras on him, watching his approach excitedly. The bright bursts of light and rapid clicks went off in a wave of excitement as he braved the crowd with extreme impatience. "Harry!" A witch cried excitedly above the jumble of whirs and exclamations. "Come to watch your fiancé at work? Can you give us a statement on Miss Weasley, and your upcoming wedding?"

"No," Harry said shortly, forced to shield his eyes yet again and hurry into the doors of the awaiting stadium. Two security wizards stood apologetically at the entrance.

"We're sorry, Mr. Potter, but unless they try to get onto the pitch or into the seats, we can't force them to leave," a tall, bearded young man explained. His well-muscled partner nodded, looking exasperatedly at the swarming reporters.

"S'okay," Harry muttered, all the same casting an annoyed glance over his shoulders at the still shouting reporters. As he stepped into the stadium a cool, strong gust of wind rippled past him and then brought his attention to the players. Raising his eyes almost immediately to the sky, he found darting, soaring figures cloaked out in blue robes and straddling broomsticks.

For a moment he stood, his eyes searching until they found the familiar fiery chaser stealing the Quaffle in a burst of speed. He grinned, and even though Ginny couldn't have possibly seen him yet, he felt like waving madly at them. Instead, he wisely chose to find a seat well away from the entrance, and from the few other already gawking people in the stadium. He tucked his cloak a little higher in the gusts of wind, and turned his gaze upward again with a small smile.

Ginny was a blaze of vibrant red hair against royal blue in the air, clutching the Quaffle expertly and dodging her teammates with fairly blurred speed. She wove her way in and out, passing and receiving the Quaffle, pausing only to recover a dropped pass. She truly was a brilliant chaser, and she'd come a long way, he smiled, from nicking her brother's brooms back at the Burrow. Watching her drop and turn sharply on her broomstick, he felt the usual urge to fly up and join the team, to find his Firebolt and roam through the air in pursuit of a winged golden ball. Wistfully, he remembered the Hogwarts pitch, but he was cheered by the fact that in a few months, he'd be teaching there, and surely even the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor could go for a fly on the Quidditch pitch... And then his eyes were reminding his brain that Ginny was flying around up there at the moment, and that a Bludger was hurtling towards her head…

In the air, Ginny turned at the last second, her mane of red whipping out of her face in time to glimpse the streak of black whistling toward her. She rolled over in the air as it whirled past her, and then looked around for the Quaffle again. Only moments later, her captain's whistle cut through the practice, and the players started heading for the ground. Ginny, however, was hovering far above the ground; sitting quite still on her broom. For a few moments, she sat looking in Harry's direction, and then to his surprise, she did a kind of euphoric loop in the air before slipping down to the pitch. Grinning widely at her antics, he watched the team stand crowded around their captain before starting to break towards the locker rooms. Harry debated over waiting outside amongst reporters (not preferable) or settling into his seat for a few more minutes to wait for Ginny. But then he realized the reporters would have just as much of a field day with her, and she would probably stand being bombarded with questions while waiting for him to come out...With a groan of frustration, he stood up and left the stands reluctantly to face the crowd outside…

It was a few irksome minutes later while he stood with the security wizards, watching the reporters dully as they shouted out pointless questions (Mr. Potter, is it true you and Miss Weasley will be moving to a home in Hogsmeade? Will you be getting any pets? How do you feel about singing cupids at your wedding?). Harry shook his head at them with distaste, and tried focusing again on the exit to the player's locker room. There, a very wind-tousled, tired looking witch was making her exit, her bag slung over her shoulder. She looked up, at first startled by the reporter's flashing cameras, then an indignant look spread across her features. Harry was not smiling as he strode out of the stadium; in fact, he strongly suspected his face mirrored Ginny's. At this thought, he sought Ginny's eyes, but was surprised to see that she had already spotted him, the beginnings of a very wry smile playing at her lips. The crowd turned as Harry came out to meet her, and some began yelling once more.

"Miss Weasley! Mr. Potter! Can we get a shot for _Witch Weekly_?"

"Harry, are you planning on a big wedding? A lavish public affair?"

"Hardly," Ginny said under her breath with a snort, holding a hand over her eyes as Harry took her arm and they began to hurry away.

"Ginny! Is it true you'll have Celestina Warbeck singing at your wedding?" At this, both Ginny and Harry began laughing in earnest, and as Harry looped an arm around her waist, Ginny looked up at him with the first genuine smile he'd seen since she'd exited the stadium, and they disappeared with a pop.


End file.
